January 6 witnessed two brutish attacks on the public good. Both failed. The first of course was the fascists, QAnon crazies, white supremacists and other seditious abusers who rioted in our nation’s capital, likely committing treason in the process.
The second attack attracted less attention but was perhaps equally telling about our collective future. Rather than a motley racist mob that attempted to destroy democracy, this second attack was committed by professionals in suits who, in a no less deadly action, attempted to destroy the natural world. This second failed attack happened in Alaska, some 4,000 miles from the nation’s capital. It involved oil companies bidding for the right to drill for oil in one of the last sizeable, intact wilderness areas left on planet earth: The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR), home to the Gwich’in people.
ANWR, a vast network of boreal forest, coastal plain, and alpine tundra that is slightly larger than South Carolina, was first set aside from development by Dwight Eisenhower in 1960; it was substantially expanded by Jimmy Carter in 1980. But ANWR’s coastal plain was left unprotected from development due an act of political expediency that helped garner enough votes for Carter to pass the milestone Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act. Not coincidentally, Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act was the last piece of fundamental, sweeping, environmental reform legislation passed in the United States.
The oil industry has lusted after the coastal plain ever since, spinning fantasy after fantasy about the riches to be had if only they could exploit the coastal plain. It finally got its wish in 2017 when President Trump signed into law the Tax Cut and Jobs Act. The act included an extraneous provision authorizing the preparation and sale of leases for oil and gas development in ANWR’s coastal plain. Estimated to generate almost $1 billion in revenue, the measure was justified—absurdly—as a partial offset to the legislation’s $1.4 trillion price tag. After nearly 40 years of fraught politics, ANWR would finally be open to oil development.
ANWR had long been a potent symbol for both environmentalists—who revere it as an unspoiled and irreplaceable ecosystem that is the home to indigenous peoples, and to the reactionary forces of the oil industry who saw it as needlessly untapped development whose riches were unnecessarily kept in the ground. Right wingers had long promised that oil development in ANWR would, as Alaska governor Mike Dunleavy tweeted in his very best Trump voice, be “tremendous for America.” Dunleavy insisted that ANWR’s “responsible development” would “put Alaskans to work, Bring billions of dollars of investment to our state, support American energy independence, and provide critical revenues to our state and local communities.” The Department of the Interior claimed the flowing oil would “reinvigorate” the moribund Trans Alaska Pipeline. Where environmentalists saw critical ecosystems, the oil industry saw money.
The Gwich’in people see the coastal plain—sometimes referred to as “America’s Serengeti” due to its astonishing abundance of animal life—quite differently. They call the verdant lowlands “Iizhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit,” The Sacred Place Where Life Begins. Their reverence is tied to one of the great ecological functions of the coastal plain: it is the calving ground of the Porcupine Caribou Herd, nearly 200,000 strong, the largest single ungulate population in the Western hemisphere. The Gwich’in people depend upon the caribou for food, clothing, tools, and spiritual guidance. According to oral tradition, they have lived on the coastal plain, harvesting from the caribou herds, for thousands of years. By permanently harming the plain, oil development would endanger the caribou and the Gwich’in people that depend upon them.
Drilling would clearly be a disaster for the planet; if humans are to mitigate runaway climate disruption, fossil fuels must stay in the ground. A statement put out by a coalition of environmental and human rights organizations noted that,
“The Gwich’in and Iñupiat people have been the caretakers of Alaska’s Arctic for millennia — and selling the coastal plain for corporate profit disregards that legacy of stewardship. Indigenous Arctic people are already experiencing the most dramatic climate impacts in a region warming at three times the rest of the planet, and selling out the coastal plain puts our climate and the Arctic’s people, land and wildlife at further risk. Arctic oil drilling will boost carbon emissions even further and harm communities already bearing the brunt of the changing climate.”
As is always the case, environmental quality and human rights remain inseparably intertwined.
It was thus with great anticipation that the Department of the Interior Deputy Secretary Kate MacGregor opened bidding for the ostensibly rich oil parcels. “It is my honor to preside over this momentous occasion” crowed MacGregor. The honor didn’t last long. After a measly 13 bids, which covered only half of the available parcels, MacGregor gaveled the process to a close just ten minutes after it started. Even the Petroleum News conceded that the results were “somewhat disappointing.”
To make matters even worse for the wilderness despoilers, none of the bidders were large oil companies—that is, companies with the capital and expertise to exploit coastal plain oil reserves. In fact, only two bids were submitted by oil companies at all, both from small exploratory outfits. 9 of the successful 11 bids came from The Alaska Industrial Development and Export Authority (AIDEA), a state-owned corporation set up in 1967 to foster economic growth by providing low-interest loans to small business. Thus, the oil sale that right wingers had wanted for decades and had vociferously promised would generate untold riches, ended up being a simple transfer of development rights from the federal Department of the Interior to the Alaskan state government. The sales generated a paltry $14.4 million.
The disappointments for the Alaskan oil industry do not end with the lack of sales. Questions persist about the legality of AIDEA’s bidding for the oil leases. The state corporation may have violated open meeting laws when it made its decision to bid on the coastal lands. When it announced that it had approved $20 million for bidding, public comment was, according to Alaska Public Media, “dominated by people who opposed AIDEA bidding on the leases in the Arctic refuge.” The AIDEA bids were clearly an attempt by the state to use public monies to rescue a long cherished right-wing proposal from the very market forces they claim to revere.
Despite the obvious failure, the Alaska congressional delegation claimed victory. Adam Kolton, executive director of the Alaska Wilderness League, more accurately summarized the proceedings: “This lease sale was an epic failure for the Trump administration and the Alaska congressional delegation. After years of promising a revenue and jobs bonanza, they ended up throwing a party for themselves, with the state being one of the only bidders. We have long known that the American people don’t want drilling in the Arctic Refuge, the Gwich’in people don’t want it, and now we know the oil industry doesn’t want it either.” A coalition of environmental and indigenous groups have sued, claiming the government did not adequately follow the environmental review process before allowing the sales. "If we're successful, and we believe we will be, these leases could be invalidated" said Kolton.
Moreover, the AIDEA bids may not be realized. President Biden’s temporary moratorium on oil and gas drilling leases on public lands puts their future in doubt. Indeed, the precarious future of the oil industry and the political backlash sure to follow any development on the arctic plain help explain the utter lack of industry investment in the newly opened artic lands. In a telling statement, governor Dunleavy bitterly denounced the move.
The immediate effects of the lease fiasco may be felt in the confirmation hearings for congresswoman Deb Haaland’s nomination to head the Department of the Interior. Haaland is clearly a nightmare for the destroy-the-planet coalition. Earthjustice summarized Haaland’s record on environmental protection:
- In Congress, Rep. Haaland has been a strong advocate for environmental justice priorities, most recently leading the fight to require the Department of Interior to conduct a report on how its activities impact environmental justice communities.
- Rep. Haaland leads the 30x30 effort in the House, a major conservation plan to protect 30% of land and ocean in the US by 2030.
- Rep. Haaland introduced the ANTIQUITIES Act, a bill that would greatly expand National Monuments of great ecological and cultural value.
- Haaland has strongly opposed fossil fuel industry interests, taking the bold position to meaningfully limit all forms of oil and gas drilling on public lands.
Haaland’s nomination and hearing will likely be referendum on the direction of climate policy—that is the potential for sane environmental measures—in the coming years. Her righteous insistence on the intersection of environmental and social justice priorities will only further inflame the right-wing opposition.
The other question raised by the ANWR sale is about the long-term viability of the oil industry itself. It would surely be folly to read too much into one politically fraught failure to bid on potential oil reserves. (Just how large those reserves are remains a matter of speculation.) And yet the failed sales, in conjunction with President Biden’s impressive start to climate policy, combine to cast genuine doubt on the future for the most powerful industry on the planet. Indeed, the future for the oil industry is not if but how: how the energy industry will decarbonize. It’s up to us to ensure that does, as quickly as possible.